LAKE OF THE SWANS
Book 2 of 3
Chapter 63
Laureal felt puzzled as John came forward with Ellie, “What are you doing?”
“I thought you might like to go for a ride.”
“What about our meeting?”
No more had Laureal asked than she saw Harley and Jessie coming out from the barn end of the longhouse, followed by the others, and returning her eyes to John, she asked, “What’s going on?”
“We’re taking a break. Your grandmother said she would babysit for us.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” smiling.
As fortune would have it for our hero and heroine, the year 3011 had brought the winter moon to a rare maximum in the northern sky. Astronomers of the 21st century had a name for it. An event due to the difference between the Earth’s tilt on its axis and the orbital angle of the moon. It was not a significant cosmic shift, but rather a subtle celestial oscillation. A little something extra in which the northern moon shone with a light that came only once in a generation.
Atop their giant, John and Laureal could not help but notice how the moon fell upon fresh-fallen snow with a little something extra—a soft luminescence made especially for a silent winter night.
In tune with it all, Ellie walked softly as she bore the lovers on the forest trail. The surrounding pines grew smaller and smaller until, after the passing of several miles, the riders arrived at a wide-open field, not the barren lands but an expansive tundra meadow, itself part of the transition zone.
Under the moon, the meadow appeared as a soft white blanket. Here and there, dwarf pines cast stark shadows against the snow—pointy shadows like signs, all pointing to the northern horizon and the fabled land of the midnight sun.
Off to one side, a family of caribou dug and grazed on grasses and lichens. Weya, who’d been tagging along a few paces behind, trotted ahead where, freezing in place, she aimed her nose at the animals like a rifle.
“We’re not hunting,” said the horseman to the wolf.
Weya turned to look back at John, her head on a tilt, her ears perked, her eyes shining in starlight.
John used his left hand to pass the reins under his right arm to Laureal, “Hold these, please?”
No sooner had Laureal taken the reins than John slipped his leg under the reins and over Ellie’s mane, whereupon he slid feetfirst down her side. He then turned to smile up at Laureal—
“I promised I would show you.”
“Show me what?”
“How to ride.”
“Oh! Good grief!”
“Did you forget?”
“No. No, I didn’t forget. It’s just that, with the baby and so much going on…I just, I just, well, I guess I did kind of forget.”
Pausing in thought, Laureal added, “Other than you, I can’t recall seeing anyone ride her, not since leaving the Lake of the Swans.”
It was true; the giant had carried heavy loads over untold miles and pulled many logs for the building of the longhouse, but only John had ridden her, and then, only when hunting. Fortunately for Ellie, things had been relatively easy for her of late.
“Ellie knows this place well,” John began, “so if you’re up for it, this is a good place to begin.”
“I’m up for it.”
“Good,” smiling happily, laying his hand on the giant’s shoulder, “Ellie is what’s called a ‘plow-reiner.’ That means that to steer her, you pull the rein back on the side you want her to turn to. And when you want her to stop, you pull both reins back equally. But because she’s extraordinarily attuned, you will scarcely need to pull her reins at all. In fact, once you’ve learned how, you won’t have to move your arm, your wrist, or even your hand to walk her. She’s so good, you can leave your hands in your lap and steer her with your fingers. She will connect with you, read you, and respond to your directions.”
Laureal laughed at how adoring John had become.
“No, seriously,” he added in complete earnest, “I know horses. A few are gold. A few are lumps of coal. And all the rest fall somewhere in between.” And stroking the giant’s neck, “This girl, she is pure gold.” Then, lifting his eyes to Laureal, John added, “Like you.”
Laureal narrowed her eyes, even as she pursed a smile. At the same time, Ellie turned her great head, her enormous eye fixed on John.
“What?”
“Nothing,” laughingly.
“I’m telling it like it is!”
In silence they gazed into one another’s eyes, whereupon Laureal said, “I feel the same about you.”
John gathered up Ellie’s reins, “We’ll start with these. Take one in each hand. That’s it, take just a little slack out. Not too tight,” helping her. “There, that’s perfect. Get a good look and feel for that. If you hold them tighter than that, you’ll confuse her. If you hold them looser, she won’t be as responsive. But don’t worry too much for now. She knows you’re new, and if you mess up, she’ll correct for you.” And turning to Ellie, “won’t ya, girl,” patting her neck.
Stepping back, John lifted his eyes to Laureal, “To start her walking, make two clicks. You know how to make the clicking sound. Once she starts walking, don’t make any more clicks, or she’ll start to trot. Now, if she’s of a mind to take advantage of you, it will be to graze. So if she tries to graze, pull up on the reins and say, ‘I did not tell you to do that.’ Say it like you mean it, and make two clicks. She’ll start walking again.”
Laureal made the clicking sound, and Ellie began to walk.
Walking alongside, John stayed about ten feet out, “Now get ready to turn her in my direction. Okay, gently pull on her left rein.”
Horse and rider executed the turn and, having walked a bit further, John said, “Now pull gently on both reins and say, ‘Whoa.’”
No sooner had John spoken than Ellie stopped.
“Oops,” said John, smiling. “Well, okay, go ahead and start her walking again, then turn her the other way. The only difference is that you’ll pull on the right rein. And remember, pull gently.”
Again Laureal and Ellie made the turn without a hitch, as John expected. And so they moved on to walking in figure eights.
“You’re doing great! Now, say the word and bring her to a stop.”
Bringing the giant to a stop, Laureal’s expression told of pleasure and entertainment. “What’s next?”
“Well, we could do backing and turning around in place and whatnot, but we’ll leave that for another day. Right now, let’s move on to trotting, loping, and some easy galloping. Trotting is pretty, but a bit jarring, so we won’t bother much with that. She smooths out at a lope, though. And at a gallop, riding her is like floating.”
“Like floating?” Laureal’s tone was skeptical even though she had heard John testify to it, passionately, on numerous occasions.
“Yes,” affirmatively, though unaware, as young as he was, that a difference existed between the natural high and the physical reality, which is not to say there was no smoothing out at a gallop.
“It’s like floating on top of a whole lot of power,” John explained. “And because the source of that power is solid, and because it knows this prairie well…we’re all good. And if at any point it becomes a bit much, just say, ‘Easy girl.’ She’ll take it down a notch each time you say that. By repeating, ‘easy girl, easy girl,’ you can bring her smoothly to a walk, or even a stop. Just don’t freak and shout, ‘Whoa!”
“What if she starts running, and I can’t hold on?”
“That could happen to anyone, but trust me…she won’t run unless you ask her, and you’re not the ‘fall-off type.’”
“What if we’re running and suddenly come to a ditch, or a big rock?”
“Give her the reins and grab her mane, pull your knees in and hunker down.”
The scowl on Laureal’s face fit perfectly with her musical tone, “John—!”
“You’re not going to hit anything! And you’re not going to fall off. Look at how smooth this place is. There’s all kinds of room. That’s why I brought you here. Just start easy, take your time, and stay within this area so I don’t lose sight of you. Oh, and don’t try to turn her at a run. Slow her down first. Then, when you’ve turned around, you can run some more if you like.”
Drawing near, John rested his hand on Laureal’s knee, “It’s only natural to feel nervous…you’re sitting on top of a giant. But trust me, you couldn’t have a better mount.”
Stepping back, he continued, “If you want to speed her up, make clicks. With each click you make, she’ll pick her pace up a notch. You’ll find it’s gradual and easy. Then, when you want to reduce speed, say ‘easy girl.’ She’ll take it down a notch each time you say that. If you want her to run, say, ‘Run girl,’ It’s just that simple.”
Looking as if he’d overlooked something important, John stepped forward, placed his hand on Laureal’s knee, and signaled that he wanted to whisper in her ear—
“Whatever you do…do not say, ‘Yah.’”
“Why?” whispering back, believing she knew the answer, but wanting to make sure.
“Because,” he replied, “she’ll take off like a bat out of hell.”
“John!” Laureal hissed.
“I know, I know…I shouldn’t talk like that, and I apologize…but whatever you do, just don’t say that word to her…okay?”
Laureal was visibly troubled, “John, as I recall, back when we were living at the lake, Anders spent a whole morning coaching the family before putting any of them up on Ellie. And even after he put them up there, he kept hold of the lead rope and stayed alongside until they were ready.” Then, plying his eyes for the truth, “Darling, you’re not rushing me into something before I’m ready…are you?”
John replied with a phrase he’d learned in his homeland, “If a man has a fish to put in the water, and he’s certain it’s a fish, how much time should he spend teaching it to swim?”
Laureal would have been astounded, save that she’d heard John use the maxim before, and she knew he was not one to disregard the importance of training—
“They threw you guys in the ‘water,’ and you were just kids,” she said at last, having heard his stories.
“That’s right,” John acknowledged, but they were right there with us.” Then, repeating an ethos of his Order, he said, “Fish are made to swim in water…and men are made to ride on horses.”
“And now, you’re applying that to me?” Laureal asked redundantly.
John’s eyes softened, as did his voice, “There’s plenty of things for you to learn along the way, but right now, I’m showing you the basic things you need to know, and I wouldn’t do it this way if Ellie wasn’t solid…rock solid. And you too. The foundation is already inside you.”
John took several steps back and waited.
Laureal dropped her eyes to her lap. The reins lay in her hands. Looking straight ahead, she made the clicking sound and Ellie began to walk. Not long thereafter, with a few more clicks, Ellie’s head came up, her ears perked, and she began a dancing trot—a beautiful thing to watch but not particularly comfortable to ride.
John looked on as Laureal and Ellie moved from trot to lope. At two hundred yards out, they slowed, turned, and began back in his direction. At a lope with Weya running alongside, they passed about fifty feet to his right. Again, they slowed, turned, and started back. They passed him at an easy lope, then accelerated to a gallop and continued until, slowing down, they executed another turn. Ellie looked solid as they came around, and on her rider’s prompting, she returned to a gallop.
Running solid and easy, the horse soon carried her rider all about the large meadow. Her power was a natural intoxicant, and it was only a matter of time before Laureal became high on it. Perhaps, a little too high—
“Yah!”
No more had Laureal spoken than Ellie’s enormous heart and lungs, now properly warmed up, delivered the full measure of natural fuel, whereupon the giant, in the prime of life and wonderfully made for it, came to life—two thousand pounds of energy directly beneath—suddenly turned loose like a dragon taken flight!
Massive hooves pounded the earth like war hammers while the wonder of Ellie’s design left her rider to virtually float on her back. The wind whistled in Laureal’s ears as her hood blew back and, crazy though it be, she began to laugh.
Drop-jawed, John was stricken with worry, but there was nothing he could do, as any attempt to intervene would only amplify the danger. Then, seeing how Laureal was leaning into it like a natural athlete, he found some comfort even as he questioned the wisdom of what he’d told her.
Weya, running as fast as she possibly could, was left behind as snow flew from the giant’s heels. Atop Ellie’s back, Laureal’s hair unfurled like a banner under the moon. The wind, like a siren’s song, raced in her ears.
The giant, a perfect meeting of brute force and majestic grace, carried her rider through the uncluttered grayscale of night in a dome of stars, and no mountain could have taken them higher, but no more had they reached the summit than a sudden thought came like a spear to pierce the young mother’s heart—if something were to go wrong and she took a tumble and broke her neck, her child would starve—
“Easy girl, easy girl, easy girl…”
John came running as Laureal slid down Ellie’s side, her eyes lit. He grasped her by her shoulders, “I told you not to do that!”
Filled with adrenaline, Laureal beamed as if to say, “I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
Likewise, John lifted his brows as if to say, “You were flying!”
“We should head back,” Laureal said at last, thinking of their son.
“Yeah,” glancing towards home. Then, drawing a deep breath, exhaling and calming, he returned his eyes to her, “You good?”
“Never better,” flashing a smile.
Back atop Ellie, John and Laureal had only begun home when a shooting star raced across the breadth of the sky. And seeing it, they turned to one another, their young eyes full of hope and promise. Far behind were the bridges they had burned, the red lines they had crossed. Ahead and closer than they knew, a future beyond their ability to imagine awaited in the land of the midnight sun.
End of Book Two
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